lunes, 6 de junio de 2011

Diary Entry

June, 13, 1913.

   I hate this day , all the things that I do are wrong. How can I left my wife in the worst days of her life, she was 
ill, very bad. I miss her so much, I can listen a voice, I know that is her. The only thing that I can do is to write a poem to Emma for leave the guilty out .
   I think I am so stupid because I didn't spent many time with her.
   Too bad he's dead Emma miss her so much that I cry old the nights, I am starting to think that my life it has no sense without Emma, Emma was all in my life.
   Tomorrow I will talk about Emma 's illnes.

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